


Sweet Dreams

by FateNowLiesDownYonderPath



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-19 16:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14241372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath/pseuds/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath
Summary: Strike wakes up from a drunken binge in an unfamiliar bed.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of something new. Not overly detailed yet but that's to come. I'm going to try to keep it below an E rating but still with lots of lovely tender moments.
> 
> Hopefully it will be a few quick chapters but don't hold me to it, it's just roughly sketched out for now xx

Sweet Dreams: Chapter One

Slowly and reluctantly, strike was beginning to regain consciousness. He had been asleep for a solid twelve hours. Well, when I say asleep, I mean passed out drunk, he also had no idea that it had been 12 hours since his eyes had closed. He was struggling to steady his mind to stay focused on one thing at a time but as a drunken mind does, it kept wandering off. There was a vague recollection of soft words being whispered against his ear but that was about it. He was desperate to open his eyes to see where he was, something didn’t feel right about his surroundings, he didn’t think he was in his own bed, was someone lying along side of him? Since he couldn’t convince his eyes open, he listened for the sound of someone else breathing, it appeared he was alone, maybe I’m at Nick and Ilsa’s he thought.

His head was thumping and spinning, which wasn’t a great combination, he was lying on his side, his right arm completely numb all the way down to his fingertips. From what he could feel, he was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. His nose wasn’t smelling much past the alcohol residue and stale tobacco on his breath but there was something familiar drifting through.

Strike tried remembering back to his last conscious thoughts, a cold sweat swept over his body as he remembered what had started his drinking binge early the previous afternoon and he hoped to all fuck that he hadn’t gone and done something spectacularly stupid. The images he had accidentally stumbled across on Robins computer came flooding back. Five, clean shaven men, in their mid- twenties, sculptured haircuts and chiselled cheek bones, all in a row, all staring back at his thirties face, scruffy facial hair and scarred features. Robin had joined a dating site. He knew he wasn’t a handsome man in Robins eyes, but that didn’t stop him from hurting. He felt lost, alone and disillusioned, they had been getting along better than ever, becoming closer, there had even been times when he had thought that he had seen a spark in her eyes, a connection between them, that belonged just to them and now this. He remembers opening a new bottle of whiskey but that’s all he remembers.

Now finally his eyes were open, they searched the unfamiliar space for any vessel capable of catching vomit. Within arms reach was a bucket, he fumbled for it with his numb arm only to knock it out of reach. Using every ounce of strength he had, Strike heaved his upper body off the side of the bed just in time to position himself before the violent convulsions started. 

A loud groan of self- loathing echoed through the small room. He washed out his mouth with a bottle of water that had been conveniently left on the bedside table. Familiar objects were becoming clearer through his blurred vision. One of Robins favourite scarves was hanging on the back of the door, he could also see some of her work shirts drying on a clothes rack in the corner, what he recognized to be his pants were folded on a chair, with his jacket hanging over the back, and of course there was a note, which he couldn’t bring himself to read just yet.

With his bladder about to explode and refusing to piss in a bucket that contained a large portion of his stomach contents, Strike attached his leg and went in search for a bathroom. Barely conscious and leaning heavily against the door frame he was relieved that the room he was looking for was right in front of him. 

Sitting naked on Robins toilet, his hands cradling his heavy head, only intensified his feelings of humiliation, embarrassment and above all, guilt. How could he explain his inexcusable actions? First he had to establish exactly how he’d come to being here, he knew Robins new address and yes, he’d happened to be passing by on occasion when he might have been worried about her, but that was only to check if she had made it home safely, with her light on he’d been able to see her figure moving around beyond the curtained windows, giving him some peace of mind and an unconscious smile before returning to his own empty space.

But, in his current circumstance, he tried not to dwell on such behaviours because what was becoming painfully clear, went way beyond any hint of professionalism, he had slept in his partners bed. The only saving grace was that he was still wearing underwear. His guilt intensified when he saw a newly pressed shirt hanging on the bathroom door and a folded towel with unopened toiletries neatly laid out on the edge of the shower. Apparently, Robin had not only forgiven his actions but had affectionately gone out of her way to make him more comfortable.

Fifteen minutes later after pushing himself to have a semi cold shower, Strike sat back on the edge of Robins bed. He tried again to remember the events of the previous evening. Giving in to exhaustion he let his head fall back onto the pillow. Smothering himself in Robins sweet sent, he drifted back to sleep. It was two pm before he woke again.


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin makes a start on a new case. 
> 
> She's worried about Strike and what could have led him to her door the previous night. At least she didn't have to worry about his safety, she'd left him snoring in her bed and she missed being there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I had drifted into the land of procrastination.   
> I find it takes me longer to write when I'm nor writing the two of them together.   
> The next chapter should be up in the next day or two xx

Sweet Dreams: Chapter Two

Sat alone, at a small table by the window, Robin strummed her fingers against the stem of her wine glass. She kept her client in her periphery but her mind was miles away. A light hum of voices buzzed around her. She was sitting in an unfamiliar, too bright, too new, bistro. It was the type of environment where she’d expect Matthew to frequent. She had tailored her appearance to reflect a successful, sophisticated business woman, accustom to high end living. She’d spent over half an hour styling her hair into a soft bun, that looked effortless, yet contained no less than twenty bobby pins and a third of a can of hair spray. But the effect looked natural, with a few well positioned loose threads to complete the look. The crisp white Vashti bag that had contained the green dress Cormoran had given her, sat casually down by her crossed ankles. Of course, there was no green dress in there now, that was safely hanging at home.

Robin noticed movement over by her client. Her client, a pretty brunette, in her mid thirties, was a CEO of a small recruitment company but being that it was located right in the heart of London, the business and her own rapid climb up the corporate ladder had boosted her in to success rather rapidly, according to the clients’ sister, Gwen, who had hired Robin. 

Gwen had become concerned about her sister, Felicity, when she had found out that she was meeting up with guys she’d met on line. Both Gwen and Felicity’s careers had them moving within the same social circles but Gwen had been in the corporate world a good few years longer than her sister, who was relatively new to success and therefore rather naive to some of the opportunist creepy fish who liked to swim in the same pond. There were some fish who sought out the new money, for their own agendas. Gwen had seen many variations of scum but she was particularly concerned about rumours she’d heard about a group of young men who prey on business women, business women who like the company of a younger man, these women are known as “cougars” Gwen had explained to Robin. But Gwen’s greatest concern was that she had heard that there was a particular group of young men who weren’t really interested in the “Cougars” or their bank accounts. This trio of men target women with young daughters, generally between the ages of thirteen and sixteen. And while these vulnerable women are swept off their feet by a new romance, they’re oblivious to the fact that they’re actually the bait. Gwen feared that Felicity was falling into this trap. Her fourteen year old niece had said some things that had concerned her during their last dinner party. 

Meanwhile Robin was struggling to pull her mind back from the warmth she’d felt, lying next to Strike. She took a sip of her chilled wine and longed for something warm and chocolaty. She was typing notes and observations into her digital notepad when a young man sat down at her table. He was a handsome young thing, clean shaven, well groomed, sharp suit and made Robins skin crawl. She watched him as he summed her up. Robin however had summed him up the moment he had entered the bistro over twenty minutes ago with his equally groomed mate. They had sat at a table on the far side of the room. She’d also seen the slight kick under the table, when their other mate had entered five minutes after them, ignoring them and had walked straight up to Felicity. The casual flirting had started instantly. These were the guys Gwen was worried about, the guy that was with Felicity was one of the guys Robin had spotted on the dating site, one of the others was now taking a seat opposite her.

‘Can I help you?’ Robin asked in a board tone, she didn’t bother with a polite grin. She pushed the button on the side of her notepad to blank the screen.

‘I’m sure you could.’ He leaned in, he oozed confidence, his aftershave just as over done as he was.

Robin rolled her eyes when her stared longer than necessary at her bare fingers. He wasn’t giving up just yet. He straightened his back, pushing his shoulders back, trying to broaden himself. Robin who was so accustomed to the intimidating span of Cormorans shoulders chuckled at this puny attempt. His face turned from cool guy in to malice in under a second. He stood abruptly and walked back to his table. Thankfully this little display had gone un-noticed from her client. Robin gathered her things and left. She’d finish her preliminary notes at home. 

Not wanting to relinquish the appearance of success, Robin hailed a taxi, she took it from Whitehall to Piccadilly Circus before taking the tube to Bond Street where she’d walk the last fifteen minutes to home. There had been no word from Strike, she had no idea if he had left her flat. She didn’t want to go back to the office in case he was there, even though she had made it quite clear in the note she’d left him, that there was nothing he needed to feel bad about, he hadn’t said or done anything that required an apology, nothing had happened, nothing at all. She had offered him a place to sleep, that’s what friends do. Despite this, she knew that he’d rather not have to deal with explanations if he could avoid it. Robin thought back to her own actions, if anything, she owed him the apology but that didn’t need to be mentioned. 

Heavy clouds had drowned any long shadows indicating the time of day. Standard office hours had officially ended. The foot paths were crowded with a scurry of people wanting to get away from their Nine to Five jobs. Robin smiled at this thought, she was so happy, she’d been lucky enough to end up in a job that she loved. She could not have been happier with the life she was living. She was however concerned about her partner. Strike had also seemed like he was in a happy place, business was ticking over with profit, their working relationship was a perfect balance of professionalism and friendship, he had smiled more in the past few months than she had seen him smile in the past few years, things were good, or so she thought. So, what had prompted his drunken misery. He had been so drunk that Robin thought it would be inappropriate to take advantage of his state and try to get answers from him that she made up some ridiculous story to get him to lie down on her bed, knowing full well when his head hit the pillow, he’d be out like a light. 

Dropping in to a Tesco on the way home to pick up a tin of hot chocolate, Robin found herself drifting off in thought, not only back to the warmth of his body next to hers but the sad desperate look she had seen in his eyes. At one point during a swaying slur her had stepped forward and rather stepping back from him she took a step closer. Their eyes had looked over each other’s features, Robin was looking for any indication that he was going to lean in and kiss her, would she have allowed him to in the state he was in? She knew she wanted him to but he’d never forgive himself, even if it was what she wanted. Anyway, she’ll never know because he didn’t let it happen, he’d pulled himself away. 

Her body heaved a sigh and she picked up a packet of marshmallows. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to drag her duvet from her bed curl up on the couch, breathe in the smell of him wrapped around her and think back on some of their closest moments. With a set plan in mind Robin left the store with a spring in her step, a smile on her face and her phone in her hand. She texted Strike and hit send. A man and woman also dressed in office attire had entered her building at the same time she did, they all entered the lift together. Robin had thought they were a couple but when the doors opened on the second floor and only the woman excited Robin became cautious, she had already selected the fourth floor.

‘What floor?’ She asked the man standing behind her. She tried to get a look at him but he was standing in an awkward position with his back slightly turned.

‘Four’s fine.’ He replied, sounding board, swapping his briefcase from one hand to the other.

They exited the lift together, he followed her for a bit before turning down a corridor. The hair on the back of Robins neck had just started to settle, as she approached her door. She hadn’t managed to get a look at this guy, he’d been behind he in the lift and there were no reflective surfaces. She tried recalling if she had seen anyone on her floor that resembled his height and build, she drew a blank as she turned the key in the door. He did remind her of someone though…

No sooner had she thought the thought when she felt her self being pushed through her door. Robin tried to close the door so they couldn’t enter but he pushed into her and the latch on the door yielded against their weight. 

Robin didn’t know if he had brought his two mates with him and she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against the tree of them, so even with her mind screaming, her heart racing she had to get the upper hand, she needed to catch him off guard. Don’t show fear, she thought to herself, keep calm and control the situation. 

‘My my aren’t we tenacious?’ She said walking away from him throwing her bag down onto the couch before turning to the man she had insulted in the bistro.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike struggles to get a grip on his emotions. 'Why, why is she so good to me.'

Sweet Dreams: Chapter Three

Strike turned the corner on to Denmark Street, his head was whirl a of thoughts. His hang over had long passed but the commotion in his head was making him nauseous. He had been gripping the key Robin had left of him to lock up with, so tightly that it had left an imprint on the palm of his hand. 

He was still furious with himself, he hadn’t had the courage to call her and despite her best efforts to make things easier for him for his 4pm catch up with one of their best paying clients, he’d somehow managed to make a mess of that too. The client, Catastrophe Ken, who had managed to balls up his marriage by cheating but was trying to prove that his wife had also been visiting the same paid services he been caught at, was not impressed with the lack of information Strike had been able to obtain since their last meeting. Luckily, he was still willing to pay for results, “anything to prevent that cheating cow taking me to the cleaners”, Ken had told strike, as he marched out of the small Chinese restaurant, leaving Strike to finish his large portion of crispy duck.

Strike had deliberately left it ‘til after five before returning to the office. He wouldn’t expect Robin to be there, in fact he could almost count on the fact that she would have kept herself busy, following up on a lead or squeezing in another surveillance job just to leave him be for the remainder of the afternoon. Her caring nature and sweet attentiveness were driving him mad, mad with himself. If he had a punching bag in the office he would’ve gone ten rounds with it. His frustration at his own stupid situation, in love with his newly divorced partner, who smiled so sweetly at him, laughed at his ridiculous humour and not only bought but pre-washed and ironed a new fucking shirt for him because he’d slopped god damn fucking kebab sauce down the one he’d been wearing, like a fucking delinquent, yet was looking at ex husband material on fucking dating sites! Was driving him to drink.

The grip on the key, he’d been invited to add to the collection of keys on his key ring, something for him to keep and use whenever he needed or in brackets, as she had written in the lovely all too understanding, keep forever tucked away in my bottom draw, note, whenever he wanted to stop by, was now threatening to draw blood, he’d been holing it that tight. Why, why is she so bloody good to me? He rocked back in his chair, he ran his heavy hands up his face and through his hair pulling at it ‘til it hurt. He took a deep sigh, pulling himself together. His desk vibrated when the screen on his phone lit up. He’d forgotten he’d set it to silent while meeting with Ken. There were two messages, one was from Robin and the other from a private number, of course he read Robins first.

“Hiya, hope you slept well. Just wanted to give you the heads up that I’m on my way home. Let me know if you’re there and I’ll pick us up something for dinner. R x”

Strike picked apart the message in his head, while the little blue light of a pending message flashed relentlessly at him. Once again, too bloody nice for someone who was looking for the opposite of him. And yet he knew Robin, she wasn’t the type to play games, to fuck around with someone’s heart, especially one so scarred as his. Maybe he’d only been seeing what he wanted to see, these past few months, maybe the smile she shared with him, the reflected look of something deeper in the grey of her sparkling eyes, wasn’t reflected at all but rather a look to appease him, to flatter him, no, from Robin it would be more, to show comradery, to embrace friendship, to give support and to show just how much she loved her job, her job.

Thankfully, his wallow into despair had only taken a few seconds before he gave in to the flashing and read the second message.

He leapt from his chair, leaving it spinning behind him. He was being patched through to Wardle, as he grabbed his coat and locked the door behind him. Wardle answered his phone in under two rings. ‘Don’t tell, me some sick fuckers sent you….’

Strike ran out onto Denmark Street looking for a cab, a police cruiser, fucking anything to get him to Robin. ‘Wardle get the police to Robins flat now. Some fuckers in there with her, she sent me a text from a burner phone asking me to send the police.’ He shouted the address down the phone. At last he’d flagged down a passing patrol, he scrambled into the back seat, ‘we’re heading to Connaught Street, off Bond, DI Wardle’s meeting us there, no sirens, move!’ Thankfully, the officer didn’t hesitate at his request and launched into the city traffic. ‘I’ll need to use sirens to clear a path just ‘till we get closer.’ The officer reassured him. Strike didn’t argue. The key had now drawn blood.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again Robin is a woman of many talents.

Sweet Dreams: Chapter Four

The saliva in Robins mouth had dried so much that her tongue kept sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her legs ached as they threatened to collapse under her. She must have been as white as a ghost, her skin felt clammy and her heart was beating at a dangerous rate but she was far too stubborn to allow this piece of turd to give her a heart attack, standing in her own kitchen.

She had managed to catch this creep off guard with her easy acceptance of him into her private space, she needed to use this to her advantage, which was extremely difficult to do once she had seen the malice in his eyes when he broke through her door. She could tell he was looking forward to the thrill of intimidating her, making her regret laughing at him in the bistro, seeing fear in her eyes. But she could also see that he wasn’t sure what was going on, she could sense that this egotistical bastard thought he’d been successful in charming her, she had convinced him that he had the upper hand.

Casually she kicked off her shoes and walked over to the fridge. For a split second she thought about making a run for it but that would mean so would he, he’d end up getting away and there was no way Robin was going to allow that to happen. It was imperative that she kept control of her situation. She reached for a chilled bottle of bubbles from the fridge. A cold shiver ran down her spine, she could feel his presence behind her, watching her closely but she didn’t flinch. Turning to the side a little to keep her eye on him she reached to the back of an under-bench cupboard to find the right glasses, discreetly managing to slip a small something into her suit pocket. Using the damp champagne bottle as an excuse to wipe her clammy hands on a tea towel, she turned back to her intruder, a bullshit look of playful innocence whispered through a bashful smile. Taking advantage of a brief reprieve from the sweat beading on her palm, Robin silently exhaled, holding out her hand for introduction, an exercise in building trust. 

‘I’m Ashlee, by the way…and you are?’ She asked, overcoming her fear. Using that familiar alias had brought an unexpected sense of strength and comfort, she could do this. She knew her survival depended on this piece of scum believing that he had the power, that he was the man and more specifically, he was in control. 

‘Ben’. He ignored her hand, stepping past it, breaching her personal space to rub his hand along her arm, his gaze focused on her chest. 

Although the thought of him staring at her chest was causing bile to build in her esophagus, Robin was half pleased that is averted gaze had missed the raging hatred in her eyes. 

‘Well…Ben, why don’t you pour us a drink, while I use the bathroom.’ She took a deliberate long look at her phone which was on the table, left it there, again to instill trust and confidence and walked passed him to the bathroom.

Once the door had closed behind her, confined within the safe space of her bathroom, Robin found it almost impossible not to crumble. Her hand trembled against her gaping mouth but she was limited for time, she had to focus. Lifting the lid on the toilet to sell the story, she reached for the burner phone she had pulled from the back of the cupboard and typed out a quick and clear message and sent it to Strike.

“Its Robin send police to my apartment unwanted visitor use silent approach” She checked her watch, 5:24pm, if they were a no show by 5:45 she’d take matters into her own hands.

She flushed the toilet, washed her hands, composed herself and went back out for an encore performance.

Ben was still standing in the kitchen, he’d made himself comfortable by removing his jacket, which he’d hung over the back of a kitchen chair. Robin saw this as him marking his territory, he’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of his tailored salmon shirt and was standing casually holding two long stem glasses of bubbles. His excessive aftershave burnt into Robins nose and memory as she crossed the small amount of floor towards him. She had caught a curious look stirring in his mind as he took in his surroundings. She could see the cogs turning, a successful business woman, high end bistros and fashion, couped up in this tiny living space. 

‘You’ll have to excuse my humble abode.’ She explained with a submissive gesture, ‘I’ve agreed to look in on this place while my favourite Aunt is flitting around Italy for a while.’ She really, really didn’t want to cheers to this arsehole in fear that he might see it as an invitation to try to kiss her and if that happened she wouldn’t make it past 5:30 without doing something she may later regret or worse, do time for. Thankfully as each minute passed and no sign of him bringing company with him, Robins confidence grew, she could take him down on her own if she had to. She risked a subtle look at her watch, how could time pass so slowly? It was 5:28.

‘So…Ben.’ Think of a question that requires a long response, she thought, ‘Tell me a bit about yourself.’ Cocky turds like him could board a woman to death bragging about their own success, how they’ve blitzed every interview they’ve ever sat for, how a back handed compliment had won them respect with the hierarchy, how many high fives they’d received for outstanding results and of course, how many women they’d seduced along the way. 

That was the perfect question Robin was thinking to herself three minutes into his boasting session. A flash of fluorescent caught her eye past the splintered wood of her busted door. 

She took a long sigh. ‘Well Ben.’ She announced, placing her untouched glass on the table and stepping towards him ‘I think that’s enough of the pleasantries.’ She removed the glass from the grasp of his fingers, setting it down next to hers. Mixed expressions passed over his young dumb face, disappointed at the interruption of a grand life story, a flash of boyish excitement that he was going to see boobs and then the realization that he’d lost the power of intimidation and for a split second, rage ripped through his pretty boy features. Rage came just before shock and awe.

The door burst open combined with shouting. Robin ignored all, with swift smooth motions, she had grabbed his arm, turned her body into him, pulled his weight over her shoulder, flipping him onto the floor in front of her with a heavy thud as she pushed him onto his stomach, her knee grinding into his back. ‘You’re under arrest arsehole. Cuffs please.’ She asked one of the officers who were now standing over her intruder, batons drawn and still shouting orders for him not to move.

Two minutes later as Robin was starting to explain the events that had happened and the case she was investigating while the scum bag was being hauled down to a waiting police car, she heard what sounded like a scuffle and more shouting but this voice she clearly recognized. She looked at the police woman sitting opposite her at the table. ‘That’ll be my business partner.’ She explained, trying to contain the emotions that were flooding through her at the sound of his voice. Relief, gratitude and something else still lingering from the previous night.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike finally realizes what an idiot he's been. While Robin struggles to deal with the aftermath of having an intruder in her home.

Sweet Dreams: Chapter Five.

The police car Strike had arrived in had joined three others crammed into the narrow street outside of Robins residence. He had been pulling himself out of the car when four officers walked out of the building holding one man in custody. Strike recognized him as one of the images he’d seen on the dating site. With a combination of fear and adrenaline raging through him, he surged forward, his fists clenched. The roar of his voice boomed over the noise of the busy street behind him, ‘YOU ARSEHOLE! IF YOU’VE TOUCHED HER…!’ Four police officers blocked Strikes path, he pushed against them, they pushed back, he tried again using his shoulder to barge through, but the salmon shirt had slipped into the back of a patrol with an officer either side of him. 

‘Sir, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to calm down, the situations under control. Go inside.’ The officer stood directly in front of Strike. He wasn’t a big guy but his height matched Strikes. The officer remained calm, he stood there until the crazed look gave in to concern.

‘Robin.’ Strike gasped turning away from the policeman to race into the building. 

‘Wait.’ The cop hurried up along side of Strike who was pressing the lift door repeatedly. ‘Look, I understand your anger but just take a few deep breaths, she’s fine.’ He said reassuringly as the lift doors opened. They both stepped in, the cop continued talking, he started his next comment with a huffed laugh, ‘she’s a tough one your girl, I watched as she karate flipped him to the floor, all I had to do was pass her the cuffs.’ He said risking another small laugh. He could see Strikes shoulders relax a bit. ‘You may want to un clench your fists before you go in.’ He said staring down at Strikes hands. ‘Do you know if she knows the guy?’ He asked as the lift reached Robins floor. ‘Judging by your reaction when you saw him, you know him.’ He added

‘Dating site.’ Strike responded stretching out his aching fingers and taking in a few deep breaths. ‘She met this guy through a dating site.’

‘Oh, I thought you two were…’

‘We’re partners.’ Strike looked sideways at him ‘She my…we’re business partners.’ They were a few feet from Robins door. He could here her voice through the open door, her clear speech pattern as she delivered detailed answers to questions. He moved closer, there was a pause in her words, she knew he was there. 

Everything had happened so quickly that Robin had hardly had time to process things before she was answering a barrage of questions. She knew Strike had arrived and any minute now she be apologising to him…again. She’d made another crucial error in her surveillance work, put herself in danger…again and had interrupted another one of his evenings for her own emergency, at least this time she hadn’t ended up in hospital. But she was dreading seeing disappointment in his eyes.

She was just finishing up giving a brief rundown of Gwen and Felicity to the officer sitting opposite her when she heard the familiar tread pattern coming up to her door. Her words stopped mid-sentence, her head turned towards the vacant space waiting for him to fill it. The officer continued with her questions ‘So how did you know the offender would be there today?’ Robin had opened her mouth to answer but she couldn’t speak, Strike had entered the room, his nostrils flared his jaw pulsed, there was so much to be read in his intense stare, fear, relief, confusion and a softness that was threatening to drag Robin from her chair, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, to feel the security she had felt against his sleeping frame. The officer started to repeat her last question ‘How did you…?’

Robin kept her eyes lock onto his, her speech stumbling a little. ‘I’d joined a dating site, according to Gwen there were a few specific spots they use as hunting grounds, they list their favourite haunts on their profiles but you have to be registered to access it and that bistro happened to be one of them. Apparently, Felicity had set up a date for today, so I went there and waited for them to show up.’ Strike was leaning against the wall just inside the busted door. She watched as his body language changed from defensive to weariness, his shoulders slumped. Their eyes broke contact when he rubbed a heavy hand across his rugged face. She looked back at the officer ‘Look would you mind if I continued this tomorrow, I can come down to the station.’ She looked back to Strike then back to the officer ‘It’s just I’m a bit overwhelmed and I still need to organize a locksmith to look at the door.’

Both police left the room, the female cop poked her head back around the corner, ‘Don’t let the locksmith touch that door ‘til we’ve dusted it for prints, we need as much as we can get on this guy. Would you like an officer stationed on your door?’ 

‘No.’ Both Robin and Strike answered together. Strike continued ‘Thanks but I’ll look after her.’ The officer looked to Robin for conformation, Robin nodded assuring the officer that she was in safe hands.

An awkward silence filled the small space around them. Robin pick her mobile off the table and started searching for locksmiths. While scrolling through numbers she started to open every window. There was a nervous energy to her actions, Strike had observed this, he gave her a minute of quiet before walking over to her. Once again, she had managed to take his breath away. Besides from looking absolutely stunning in her navy suit, with her hair swept up in a loose bun, a few stray strawberry curled strands trailing down the back of her neck it was Robin in her entirety as a woman, strong, resilient and so bloody stubborn that had captivated him in this moment. ‘You okay?’ He asked gently, not wanting to startle her as he walked up behind her.

‘Yeah, I’m fine’, she quipped back, turning her head a bit but not turning around. 

‘I heard you karate flipped his arse.’ He added a fraction of humour. He had to restrain from placing his hands on her shoulders. 

She chuckled, ‘Yeah I…ah…’ She stopped mid-sentence and turned to him, she looked up into his eyes but quickly diverted them, his eyes were too intense, she had to stay strong, don’t give into weakness, show him you’re okay. ‘…can you do me a favour?’ She asked keeping her eyes level with his chest, ‘can you smoke for me.’ Strike didn’t question her request, he pulled the pack from his pocket, removed one and placed the pack back again. He lit it before flicking the match through the open window. Robin breathed deeply into the smoke swirls around her. ‘it’s just…’ her words caught in her throat. ‘His smell…it’s everywhere.’ She couldn’t be brave any longer, the shock was taking over, she closed the last remaining space between them placing her hands to his chest, ‘would you mind?’ She asked sliding her hands over the span of his chest ‘Can I hold you for a bit?’ She asked fighting back tears, wrapping her arms round him now.

‘Jesus, come ‘er,’ A long thin trail of smoke left his lips as he pulled her in closer, his non smoking hand pressing lightly to her head, encouraging her to rest it against his chest, it was difficult, most of her head was taken up by the bun, eventually his hand slid to her bare skin at the nape of her neck, his fingers brushing along and into her hair line, he could feel her grip tighten through his shirt, her hands not only holding him but moving freely over and down his back. Strike took one last drag from his cigarette before also flicking it out the window so he could wrap her up in both arms. He lowered his mouth to the top of her head, whispering his words across the top ‘til they reached her forehead ‘You’re gonna send me to an early grave Robin.’ She gripped him tighter, bringing her head away from the warmth of his chest and the rhythm of his beating heart to look into his worried eyes. This was as close as they had ever been, in the past they had steadied each other but nothing like this not while they were both conscious. ‘Please don’t say thing like that.’ She pleaded, not only by her words but with her eyes, tears threatening to spill over the edge of her smudged lashes.

Strike realized what an idiot he’d been, thinking that Robin had joined a dating site for anything other than work. This very moment told him all he needed to know, there was something far stronger than comfort emanating from this embrace. He was about to move his hand to her cheek but the ringing of his phone startled them both. Keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulder, he dug deep to find his phone. He showed her the screen, it was Wardle.

‘Yeah mate she’s fine, had it under control the whole time.’ He said looking down proudly at her, comfortably tucked against his side. ‘Thanks for the quick response. Yeah, we’ll still come tomorrow once the doors been fixed, not sure what time but we’ll keep you posted. Just keep that dickhead under lock ‘n’ key. Yeah, bye.’ He slipped his phone back and pulled out his smokes again. ‘Come on.’ He said, releasing her from his grip ‘Let’s eradicate the scent of scum. And then you can explain to me how I came to wake up in your bed.’ He gave her a cheeky look. ‘Anyway?’ he asked looking around again at the small space with only one chair and a two seat couch. ‘Where did you sleep?’

Robin walked into her bedroom, taking off her jacket as she went. ‘We slept together.’ She didn’t need to look back at him to know that he had stopped still, his mouth agape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou all for sticking with this one, it hasn't been my usual Robin and Cormoran banter but it's heading there.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caught between a combination of emotions Strike knows he has no choice but to go home to his own bed.   
> Meanwhile Robin is looking forward to Cormoran spending another night in her bed.

Sweet Dreams Chapter Six

 

‘Robin’ He called after her when she turned the corner into her bedroom, his own feet refusing to follow her. ‘Robin, what do you mean we slept together?’ After a few seconds of silence Strike persuaded himself to go seek clarification. He was nearly at her door when she reappeared, nearly colliding into him. Once again, her face was just inches from his, but this time a bashful smile played on her lips.

‘Exactly, what I said, we slept together.’ She studied his face for a reaction, her heart sank when she saw regret. ‘Oh, don’t look so mortified.’ Robin couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. ‘I didn’t take advantage of you while you were drunk, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ The smile had vanished from her face. But it soon reappeared when Strike blurted out a laugh.

‘Yeah, coz that’s what I was worried about.’ His eyes traced along her jaw, across her parted rose-pink lips before falling into the dark ocean of her eyes. He was careful to use soft sarcasm for his next few words ‘You taking advantage of me, while I’m putrid drunk and covered in kebab sauce.’ They both gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. Strike thought he saw something hidden in her smile but he didn’t push her for it. ‘You hungry?’ He asked turning back towards the kitchen ‘We can Uber something in, what do you feel like?’

‘I know this is going to sound really strange but I actually feel like pizza and beer.’ And she did, she hadn’t chosen it knowing that Strike would be pleased with her choice, she really did have a craving for it. Maybe it still had something to do with familiar smells.

‘Are you sure? We can order separate meals.’ He eyed her suspiciously ‘I mean I’ll order it, if that’s what you really want but don’t have it on my account.’

‘I’m not.’ She replied, slowly starting to remove the bobby pins from her hair, still a bit confused by her own request. She watched Strike scroll through local takeaway options before returning to her bedroom. ‘Cormoran.’ She called lightly to him, she loved the sound of his name when she spoke it ‘Would you mind if I went in for a shower while you order.’

‘Course not.’ He said back loud enough for her to hear from the other room. He watched as she disappeared into the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around her. His gaze lingered on the back of the door. ‘What flavour?’ He asked slightly louder.

‘Vegetarian.’ She called back. She could hear his stifled laugh. Robin closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of liquid heat soothing her body. Standing naked in the shower conjured up thoughts of Strike being in naked in this very same shower only hours before, which then led to thoughts of her actions the previous night.

Strike placed and paid for the order by phone, being that it was still before 7pm mid-week their delivery should be to them within half an hour. He looked around Robins apartment, he hadn’t really had a chance to take in all the little details earlier that day. It didn’t surprise him that Robin had made this little space feel like a home. Delicate green foliage cascaded over the side of small copper pots that were evenly placed along the windowsill, soft throws draped over simple furnishings brought a warmth to the plain grey walls. Even the small desk pushed against a narrow wall where her laptop sat, housed a small frosted glass but still functional lamp. Maybe she had a thing for lamps, in this small area, there were three, four if he counted the one on the desk, two tall standard lamps in opposite corners both with plain neutral shades and a table lamp on a small table next to the couch, which he pictured she used for reading. He walked around the room and turned on three before extinguishing the bright glare from the stark light bulb shining above. He couldn’t help but grin at the difference a few small changes could make, not only to the look of the room but the mood that accompanied it, warm and welcoming, just like the woman who lived there. 

Strike spotted the wine glasses on the table and assumed they played a part in Robins stalling tactic. Not wanting to interfere too much with any evidence that maybe wanted by the police, he picked them up by the bottom of the stem, using a tea towel, tipped the contents down the sink, found a zip lock bag to put them in and stashed them in the cupboard. She didn’t need any more reminders that she had been the victim of what must have been a terrifying home invasion. A shiver ran down Strikes spine, he went over and closed all but one of the windows and lit one last smoke for good measure. 

He heard the water Shut off from the shower, his mind wandered back to her thoughtfulness from earlier. His new shirt, that he was still wearing, that would no doubt become a favourite, not only because it had been chosen for him by Robin but it actually felt really nice against his skin, softer and warmer than most of his others, which were, lets face it all over three years old. Christ, he scolded himself, with all that had happened, he hadn’t even thanked her for all she had done or apologized for his own intrusion the previous night. He pushed his thick fingers across his forehead causing his skin to ripple.

Robin felt miles better now that she had rid herself of her tight suit and pinching hair do. Now comfortable in lose sweats, hair washed and free of hair spray she felt it only fair that Strike should be comfortable too. Well aware that he won’t approve of her buying him anything else she came up with a quick cover story for the items she was placing on the end of her bed before going out to join him. 

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked seeing clear signs of distress on Strikes face, hoping that nothing had happened while she was showering. It felt a bit selfish but she was looking forward to a night of casual conversation and takeaway with her friend. The word friend sounded superfluous, even as she thought it, surly there was a more defining word for their relationship that had a greater significance than mere friends, she felt like they were so much more. This thought intensified when she admitted to herself that she was excitedly nervous having him stay with her again, Cormoran Strike in her bed but this time under completely different circumstances to the previous night yet still not the circumstances most would mean when sharing a bed with someone.

Strike had rehearsed a full apology, he looked up from his remorseful state and was immediately lost for words. He had seen Robin looking smart and often sexy in her usual work attire, she had taken his breath away on more than one occasion, the green Vashti dress and the little black number from the Roper Chard evening had been another but nothing compared to the vision that was standing in front of him right now. Pure and fresh, her pale skin still flushing pink from the heat of the water, the curves of her body freed from structured clothing, the sweet sent that he always associated with Robin intensified with the warmth of her body. He was in trouble, real big trouble, before the night was over he’d need to make an excuse to go back to his own flat, he’d organize an officer to guard her door. There was no way he’d be able to sleep in the same bed, even if he knew he’d never try anything, he couldn’t trust that his body wouldn’t betray him and embarrass them both, fuck even just sitting here he was becoming aroused.

He’d forgotten most of what he was going to say so he just kept it simple. ‘Robin, I never got the chance to both apologize for my behaviour last night or to thankyou for the lengths you went to to help me out today. Honestly, I can’t remember coming here and I’m sorry, I really am.’

Robin let out a small sigh of relief. ‘Cormoran you were fine, you were drunk, but you were fine, you were also passed out by 6:30pm, it was rather funny actually.’ She laughed as she pulled two beers from the fridge ‘I managed to convince you that I could hear strange noises through my bedroom wall and that you had to lie on the bed with your head on the pillow to hear it.’ She continued to laugh ‘You showed genuine concern, until your head hit the pillow, and then you fell asleep.’

He smiled at his own vulnerability to pillows in a drunken state and the amusement Robin had found in her own actions. ‘How did I end up undressed? Or shouldn’t I ask?’ His heavy brow frowned teasingly. 

‘Oh, that was easy.’ She said handing him a Sam Smith her laugh reduced to a coy smile. ‘Your shirt had sauce on it so I asked to remove it before lying down, so you wouldn’t get it on the covers, which you did, without question… and well, after your visit to the bathroom, your trousers weren’t exactly what I would call fastened, so they too were easily removed.’ She tapped her bottle of beer against his and took a long much needed drink. She knew he would be wondering and she didn’t want him to have to ask so she finished by saying. ‘I waited ‘til you were in a deep sleep before I tucked you in and made you more comfortable.’ They both knew that this referred to the removal of his lower leg.

He groaned with embarrassment. ‘Robin I’m so sorry to have put you through that.’ He walked to the window hoping to get away with having another smoke cringing at the thought of Robin feeling like she had to deal with his leg, he felt ashamed yet grateful. The pull on his beer was long and deep and interrupted by a gentle touch on his arm and a soft voice by his side.

‘There’s nothing you need to apologize for, I am your friend, you were upset about something, you were drunk and you happened to end up here, that’s it. You’d do the same for me. And anyway, I’m the one that should be thanking you, I’m the one messed up and now you have to give up your night and your own bed to stay here.’ She pulled the beer out from his hand and turned his body in the direction of her bedroom. Her tone changed from reassuring to strict instructions. ‘Now food will be here shortly, so I suggest you get changed into something more comfortable.’ 

He looked back at her stubborn face and smiled, her assertive words snapping him out of his self -loathing. 

‘And before you ask.’ She added keeping her tone firm but cheery ‘I bought some men’s clothes ages ago to hang out in case I had to share a communal clothes line, it gives the appearance that I don’t live alone, they’re on the bed for you. You can borrow them when you stay.’ 

Sure enough folded on the end of Robins bed were a pair of soft cotton loose sweat pants and a long sleeve tee both conveniently in his size.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew pizza could be so meaningful?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short and yet took longer than usual. The next one will be up in the next two days.

Sweet Dreams Chapter Seven.

Robin let out a satisfying sign of fullness. Her tiny coffee table totally consumed by pizza boxes and empty beer bottles. She had taken two bites into her forth slice when she decided she’d had enough and went to place it back with the other untouched slices.

Strike stopped chewing, he was finishing his second to last slice. Robin giggled at his facial expression as he looked between her and the half slice she’d returned to the box. Judging by his face, this was something he hadn’t seen before. ‘That’s not finished.’ He stated, his brow creased, his mouth slowly starting to chew again and a smile threatening to catch the corners of his mouth at the delightful sound of her giggle.

‘I know. What? I’m full. Are you judging me Cormoran Strike?’ She asked picking up the piece of pizza with a flirtatious smile not going un noticed. Her heart sounded a little louder in her ears when she spoke his name, looking into his eyes, sitting barely two feet apart on the same two seat sofa. She waited for him to swallow before leaning in closer, ‘If it troubles you that much, then you finish it.’ She touched a un bitten edge to his bottom lip, a spark of tension still lingering from their earlier embrace passed between them, un understanding burned through their locked eyes, the dynamics of their relationship had changed, a sexual chemistry charged within them, these two colleagues, partners and friends were wanting more from each other.

Robin jumped when Strike snapped his teeth around the slice, pulling it from her fingers with a shake of his jaw. She openly laughed at his craziness and it was beautiful to watch him laugh with her. He looked at her defiantly ‘You should never tease a man with food Robin.’ Suddenly his words took on a different meaning as his gaze trailed down her neck and along her collarbone. ‘Not bad.’ He conceded finishing off the rest of the slice. He watched as her smile faded, her could tell she was drifting into deep thought, not wanting to interrupt or push for her to open up, Strike cleared the table, put the leftover in the fridge and brought back two beers. She was looking past him at the splintered door, her fingers curled around the bottle her was offering, he held onto it until she looked up at him. He didn’t have to ask verbally, she saw he was asking a question. He lowered himself back onto the sofa turning his body towards her, one arm resting along the back the other holding his beer and waited.

‘How did I not know it was him, when he first got into the lift?’ She looked at Strike for answers. He shook his head puzzled. ‘Didn’t you say he had his back turned in the lift and when he’d entered the building he’d entered with someone else?’ He knew how hard she was on herself, that what had happened was due to a lack of vigilance or a mistake on her behalf. ‘You didn’t mess up Robin, sometimes things just get past us.’ He ached to console her.

‘But that aftershave, it was so strong in the bistro, you smelt it in here, it was very distinctive, why didn’t it set off alarm bells when we were in the lift?’ She took a long drink pondering her own question.

‘Look, smells can hit ‘n’ miss, maybe the woman that entered wore something that counteracted his, it’s the same at the office, usually it smells, soft yet sweet, it reminds me of Uncle Teds garden in the spring, it’s lovely.’ Strike could feel any remaining barriers he’d tried to keep in place be washed away like the sand castles on a beach, powerless against a rising tide. He tilted his head to her ‘And then a client will come in and next thing I know, it’s like standing in the fragrance section of a John Lewis, it can take a whole day to get you back.’ He looked away a little blushed, he had let her in to his secret thoughts.

Robin gave him an acknowledged smile of thanks. ‘Maybe that’s why I felt like pizza and beer, although the smoking helped, I still need more…of you.’

An easy flow of conversation wove between them over the next few hours. They delved deep into random topics, from the deranged minds if psychopaths to the atmospheric conditions required to form snowflakes. Robin looked at him fondly, ‘What.’ He asked mid-sentence, answering a question she’d asked him about his very first case. She stopped herself form using her go to answer of “Nothing”. ‘Sometimes I…well, I don’t take for granted but I forget how lucky I am.’ She stood up promptly before he could respond. ‘Come on it’s 1am, time to get some sleep and thanks again for staying, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all if you weren’t here with me.’ And with that she walked into the bedroom.

How could he possibly go back to his flat now? And yet how was he going to be able to sleep? Strike was thankful for the many hours he’d slept the day before, he was in for a long night but he couldn’t deny he was happy to be there.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment(s) of truth have arrived.  
> Cormoran clears the air and Robin remembers a nursery rhyme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's gone a bit off track, I'll bring it back next chapter xx

Sweet Dreams: Chapter Eight.

 

A nervous hesitation slowed each step Strike took towards Robins bedroom. Although they had just spent hours chatting, there was one conversation that he thought was necessary before he could lie next to her with a clear conscience. Casually he made a detour to the bathroom and found the toothbrush he had used earlier. His troubled face stared back at him through the mirrored cabinet above the sink. He was running through multiple ways to start this conversation when he saw Robins reflection coming up alongside his to join him in this small space. Instinctively Strike attempted to offer her some space and privacy and although he felt less bulky than usual in his light sweats, rather than his custom heavy coat, maneuvering his large frame around her would still be challenging. The side to side movement of bristles over teeth stopped mid flow, Robins hand lay upon his waist, each digit distinct through the thin cotton, her warm touch ceasing all movement from him. She leaned across in front of him plucking her own brush and paste from the glass before removing her hand to sit on the edge of the bath.

Strike expelled the white foam down the sink and resumed brushing. A calm state of domestic bliss gave him the confidence to approach the topic he’d been trying so hard to avoid. ‘I used the outer office computer yesterday to do some searchers.’ He removed the brush from his mouth and waited to see if Robin was comprehending what he was trying to avoid spelling out but the confused look she was expressing told him he’d need to elaborate. ‘I found the dating site, I thought…’ He looked at her again while rinsing his brush and mouth, there was a slight acknowledgement to his words, she had twigged. ‘I didn’t like it.’ He left the statement hanging, leaving her to finish up while he sat on the edge of her bed. He wasn’t going to remove his leg until she’d had time to process what he was saying. This could change things, one way or the other, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have left it until now. A short minute later, a bemused expression replaced his worried one. Robin was reciting a nursery rhyme, well the tune at least, Strike noticed that the words had changed. She walked past him trying to reign in her smile, her hips swaying with the delicate sway he loved so much and slipped into bed behind him. He turned towards her, his heart fluttered, she’d wiggled into the middle waiting for him to join her. He was expecting her to be clinging to the outer edges, to keep as much space between them as possible. ‘And what’s that smile for?’ Trying to stay a fraction serious given the circumstances and the bomb shell he’d just delivered.

Robin was remembering back to the night before, Strike had been humming something mostly intelligible, save for a few words, but it was difficult for her to think of anything right now bar the fact that she was soon to feel the heat of his body along side hers. She wouldn’t get away with what she’d done last night, if he wasn’t passed out drunk, which he wasn’t tonight. An un welcomed heat was building between her thighs, she had to keep her thoughts clean, we’re just sleeping. She snapped back to the fact that he was still waiting for an answer to her curious smile. ‘Well it makes a little more sense now.’ Her smile broadened at the memory. ‘Last night, you were humming the nursery rhyme “Mary, Mary quite contrary.”” Robin tapped the space along side of her. ‘Are you getting in?’ 

Strike looked at her, ‘I don’t know.’ He tilted his head down for dramatic effect ‘Should I wait to here where this goes?’

‘Oh, just get in you were fine.’ She rolled to lay on her back, diverting her eyes from the process of him removing his leg. ‘You were saying something along the lines of, “pretty boys all in a row.”’ She laughed out loud ‘And then went on about Five blade razors or something. That’s when I knew it was time to put you to bed.’ Her laugh stopped, he was in and under her covers, albeit, still fully dressed. Robin sat up pulling her sweat top over her head, just leaving on her singlet top. Her heart raced, she knew he was trying not to look. ‘Sorry but I can’t sleep fully dressed, I get all tangled up.’ 

Strike focused on keeping his breathing steady and his arousal under control. This was helped a bit by the embarrassment he was feeling. He hoped he hadn’t said anything else to incriminate himself. He felt Robin turn onto her side to face him, she was close, so close. He stayed on his back but couldn’t resist looking at her, bracing himself for a vision of beauty, he turned his head. Her eyes were intense, she dipped them away when they met with his. ‘Last night, when you were asleep…’ She lifted her eyes back to his, she wanted to keep them locked with his but she couldn’t, she looked away again ‘…I kissed you.’ She looked up again ‘Not on the mouth.’ She said quickly, now drawn to his mouth and the soft rounded curve to his bottom lip, wanting desperately to feel the heat of his mouth against hers.

So, he hadn’t been dreaming after all. He had felt her soft cool lips against his heated skin, her fingers caressing the rough stubble along his jaw, the sound of her voice feather soft in his ear. ‘Sweet dreams.’ He said rolling on his side to face her. That's what she'd whispered to him. Smiling at her flushed cheeks he would now do what he wanted to do hours ago when they’d held each other in the kitchen, his hand traced down her cheek, his thumb drifting to her bottom lip brushing it gently distorting the perfect shape. Strike had been so lost in this blissful sensation, he was only just registering Robins hands sliding up under his top, gathering up the fabric, the tips of fingernails raking through the hair on his chest, he sucked in a large intake of air, his whole body shivered. ‘Robin, what are we doing?’

Robin pulled her body closer to his, she was torn between removing his clothing, to feel the full impact of his heat pressed against her and her urge to kiss him. These impulses were more powerful that she had ever felt before. She moved her mouth to the side of his cheek, where she had kissed him the previous night but this time she didn’t stop there. She kissed all the way to the edge of his mouth, then back towards his ear. ‘I’m kissing you.’ She whispered softly. She felt his mouth press firmly under her ear, his lips part and his tongue touch ever so briefly to her skin, she breathed a gasping moan across his ear before searching for his mouth with her own. He’d wrapped her in his arms, his hands following the curves of her body, over her hips that he’d watched sway, up and into her hair, guiding her head back onto the pillow to move slightly above her to kiss her deeper. She pushed up into him craving the sensation of his tongue in her mouth, which he denied her of pulling back to look at her. She pulled again at his top bringing it up over his head and throwing it to the side, simultaneously managing to wriggle out of her bottoms. ‘Cormoran.’ The sound of his name through her parted lips and pleading eyes could not be denied any longer, he buried his face into the side of her neck, sucking and nibbling on her delicate skin, fighting against the pulls to his hair as she begged for his mouth to join hers. Robin brought her legs up to his waist, tucking her toes under the elastic of both bottom garments and slid them down over his hips, down his thighs, pushing them to the end of the bed before swiftly removing her own underwear. Digging her elbow into the mattress she pushed them both back onto their sides, she held his face in her hands and kissed his mouth, as the wet heat of their tongues finally touched, Robin felt her body melt into his, her core shuddered with pulsing pleasure.

 

To be continued…


End file.
